A couple of weeks ago when I was dropping Marlo off at preschool I noticed this posted up along with others from her classmates.

“Recycling to me is we need to think that.”

It’s like someone got Yoda really high.

I’m guessing the teachers sat the kids down, asked them, “Why do you like art?” and so forth and wrote down whatever came out of their mouths. And this is perfectly Marlo. The total nonsense, pathological liar Marlo.

Sample exchange between me and her:

“Marlo, can you see better with your glasses?”

“I can’t sthee for yesthterday. Thisth morning when I wasth a baby I could sthee.”

We were all sitting at lunch the other day talking about Chuck and how bad it used to be at the old house when he would mark the walls. She was eating a bowl of chicken when she suddenly slapped her fork down.

“GUYSTH! GUYSTH! I have an idea,” she said.

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s hear it.”

“It isth called A Dog Walker.”

“A Dog Walker?”

“YESTH. A Dog Walker. And it isth purple. A purple Dog Walker. And it sthprays water to clean up all the pee tomorrow.”

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